Affliction
by Hikasne
Summary: - Why she kept coming back, he didn’t know. - Still, he wasn’t complaining. - Twoshot, songfic, DuncanxCourtney
1. Chapter 1

**Affliction**

_Title: _Affliction

_Author: _Hikasne

_Pairing: _Duncan/Courtney

_Words: 1, 949 (part 1)_

_Summary:_

- Why she kept coming back, he didn't know. -

Still, he wasn't complaining.

[Oneshot, songfic, DuncanxCourtney]

--

________________________________

_I drove for miles and miles and_

_Wound up at your door_

_I've had you so many times_

_but somehow, I want more…_

_- 'She Will Be Loved', _Maroon Five

_________________________________

--

"More," Duncan stressed. "More!"

He slammed his glass on the table, twice, until the bartender came around, looking highly annoyed. Duncan twisted on his wooden stool anxiously, eyes half-closed as he stared blindly at his empty cup. "More, hurry up!"

"This is your fourth glass this half-hour, mister," he said, pouring him another cup of beer as he spoke. "You're buzzed."

"I know," he slurred, taking a big sip and slopping half the glass down his button-down shirt. "I know, man."

--

_(Beauty queen of only eighteen,_

_She had some trouble with herself…)_

--

The bartender shrugged. It wasn't his problem. He walked away to refill his tankard.

"Oh," he muttered as he downed his cup. "Oh, wow…" He slammed his empty glass onto the table again, signaling for more, but the bartender wouldn't come.

"Fucking bastard," he murmured, barely opening his mouth and resting his head on his folded arms. "Why, why, why," he repeated to himself. The world was spinning and tipping, swirling and rippling in front of his eyes. He closed his eyes, and there was relief in the darkness. Nothing moved, even though there was a horrible, aching pain in the back of his head that was pulsating unpleasantly.

He felt something bump against him, a cold splash, a girlish giggle, then a loud, 'Oops!'. He looked up. A girl with blonde hair was standing in front of him, hand over her mouth as she looked at the big pink mess she'd left on the floor. Her glass was turned upside down in her hand. Her friends were waiting behind her, laughing too.

Her makeup was overly done, a cowboy hat on her head and her plaid shirt tied above her flat stomach. She was barefooted, with rings on her fingers and toes.

"Sorry, sir," she said in that voice of hers. She took a step closer. "Hey, come and dance."

"No. Go away." His voice was unsteady and he shooed her away with a big drunken whisk of his hand. "You're not…you're not Courtney." He heaved a big sigh.

"No, I'm not," she said, looking offended as her friends glared in unison, and she walked away, leaving her drink splattered all over Duncan and all over the floor.

The man sitting next to him was still sitting up straight, looking wearily at Duncan, and somewhat pityingly too. He asked the bartender for another glass for himself, and another one for Duncan, on him. The bartender shrugged. "Hey, he's kicked. You wanna handle it, be my guest." He obliged and tended to a couple sitting at the front door.

"What's wrong with you?" he asked, getting ready to jump out of his seat and flee should Duncan hiss at him. He gently knocked on Duncan's outstretched elbow.

Duncan looked up, his face miserable. His mouth was twitching at the sides. "Me, man? She left me. She left me. I can't deal with it."

"Who?" he responded tentatively. "Courtney?"

"She did. She did. She left me. Why did she? Did I do something wrong?" he moaned. He didn't ask why his glass was refilled, merely gulped it all down in one quick gasp. The name seemed to have provoked a fresh wave of misery and he kicked self-pityingly at the table.

"I'm…sorry for you," he said, taking a timid sip of his own drink.

"Thanks," Duncan said, his words meshing together, almost incoherently, drawing out the last syllable and swiping his glass onto the floor with a giant sweep of his hand. It shattered. The bartender glared, but seemed unwilling to approach Duncan. The man could hardly blame him; Duncan looked almost demented. "Won't change a thing, though."

"I know." The man finished his own drink and grabbed his briefcase. "I can give you advice, though."

Duncan looked up, a hint of bemusement coloring his glazed eyes. "Oh yeah? What do you know that I don't? I did everything to help her. Tried to."

_--_

_(He was always there to help her,_

_She always belonged to someone else…)_

_--_

"You can go to her. You can go to her, can't you? Bet you didn't think of that." The man offered him a small, hesitant smile. "Gotta dash. My wife's waiting."

"You wife…" Duncan groaned.

The man grimaced apologetically. "Yeah. See you." He exited quickly, and Duncan thought he saw a flash of white light lace the glass doorframe before speeding away with the faint sound of squealing tires.

Duncan got up, trying to follow, but stumbled. His legs were cold.

"Get up," he commanded himself loudly. "Get up!"

He was as unsteady on his legs as a newborn baby deer. "Get up!" he yelled out loud.

Everyone looked over at him. The bartender gritted his teeth, taking in the sight of Duncan's wet shirt and the pink drink splashed on the hem of his pants. This was bad for business. He nodded at the man sitting at the nearest table, and together they got up and hoisted Duncan onto his knees, latching onto his underarm as they dragged him forcibly from the bar.

"You don't understand," he moaned, still loud, as the threesome approached the front door, everyone's eyes still on them. "She left! Can't you drown yourself in alcohol…sorrow…she left me…haven't you ever had your heart broken, you asshole?…put me down…I'm not done…"

They left him on the front step and closed the door behind him. "And stay out!" the bartender bellowed.

Outside, it was raining steadily, pelting down. The sky was faintly gray, sinking into blackness.

He got on his feet somehow and stumbled drunkenly to his black car. It wasn't there. The parking meter was still ticking his minutes, reading that he had twenty-eight minutes left. Twenty-eight minutes he wasted, and two quarters, too.

He thought about what the man had said. He thought about driving there. He honestly thought about driving those miles to her house, asking for forgiveness and spending a night in her bed. It could be easy. But it wasn't.

_--_

_(I drove for miles and miles and wound up at your door,_

_I've had you so many times but somehow I want more…)_

_--_

"Damn!" he swore loudly and kicked the meter.

The rain was soaking through his jacket now and his streaked black and green hair was starting to plaster itself to his forehead and neck.

"Damn it! Damn this whole fucking universe!" he shouted to no one in particular. The bartender was still keeping a suspicious eye from the window of the bar, but scuttled away as Duncan caught his eye. A couple walking with their hands in each other's back pockets hurried away too, under a red umbrella.

He sat down on the curb and watched the couple walk away. He thought about what it might be like, what it would be like to be with her again. Those could have been the happiest months of his life, those years and those moments. But they were gone, and so was she.

Duncan pictured her. He tried to remember things about her face, but it'd been so long. All he remembered was her beauty had made him, unbearably, content. He remembered her expression after their first time, the dreamy, sleepy, pleased expression. And when the rain continued to fall on his window, she didn't seem to mind.

He remembered her eyes, big and black, and her lips, her upper lip slightly thinner than the lower. The imperfection, ridiculously, made him love her more.

The brown hair, which he'd once thought was so mousy, he couldn't imagine what delusional state he'd been in. The skin, her skin, that dark color shades tanner than his. In his hands with him positioned over her.

He thought of the words she'd said to him that she'd sworn were meant for forever.

"_I love you," _she'd said in hindsight. What a lie.

_I love you, too, _he thought, muttering it to no one.

--

_(She will be loved, and she will be loved…)_

_--_

She'd said other things, too. Forever, she promised.

He walked. He walked the whole four miles, and as he approached a few blocks from home, he ran, sprinted, his jacket flying behind him. His piercings were cold on his skin, and he could feel them.

He was now completely soaked through. He thought of warm nights, skin and sweat, breathing, the sound and the feel of her beneath him, her skin in his hands and his mouth, and her body in surrender; in the car, on the bed, in his kitchen, in her parent's room, on the floor of his living room, in her backyard; her pleas and his refusal, her body rigid; hands on her neck, then lips and tongue; out of comfort, out of lust, sometimes out of spite.

He wanted that feeling again. He wanted it when she left, and he wanted it more than ever now.

--

_(I don't mind spending everyday out on your corner in the pouring rain,_

_Look for the girl with the broken smile, ask her if she wants to stay a while…)_

--

He exploded through the front door of Riverview Apartments and Co., dripping, breathing hard. The man at the front desk, Riley, spoke, looking up. "Good evening, sir, can I help—" He did a double take. "Hey, do I know—"

Duncan collapsed onto the floor, legs giving out from exhaustion and alcohol. He held onto his windbreaker like it was his last lifeline, breathing hard. "Riley—"

Riley rushed over, helping Duncan to his feet while looking quizzically the whole time. Comprehension dawned on his scarred face. "Duncan?"

"Yeah," he said, holding his chest and struggling for breath. "And I—"

"You look like _shit,_ man," Riley noted, looking Duncan from head to foot. "You've been drinking again? I thought you quit when she came around."

Duncan glared at Riley's feet. "Riley. She's…not around." His breath was giving…

Riley look mildly surprised. "Oh. Sorry."

Duncan didn't say anything.

"What the hell is that on your pants?" Riley demanded, staring at the pink stuff splattered on Duncan's shoes and the hem of his pants.

"Just—a drink—" Duncan said, wringing out his sleeves and wiping grime off his pants. His breath was still sporadic.

Riley raised his eyebrows but said nothing else on the matter. "Oh, yeah. Hey. There's a girl up to see you. Hot one, too. Let her up into your apartment."

Duncan started, looking up, heart beating ridiculously fast. "What?" he demanded.

"Yeah. Brown hair, tan, sort of tall."

"What?" he repeated again, almost disbelieving.

Riley now looked just exasperated. "Man, you're a mess. I said, I let some chick—hey!"

*

Duncan wasn't listening. He whipped past Riley to wait in front of the elevator, swearing the whole time, mind rushing a million miles an hour.

END AFFLICTION PT. I

_________________________________

_Tap on my window, knock on my door, I want to make you feel beautiful,_

_I know I tend to get so insecure, doesn't matter anymore…_

___________________________________


	2. Bridge

**Affliction**

Title: Affliction

Author: Hikasne

Pairing: Duncan/Courtney

Words: 3, 058

Summary:

[Bridge between chapters, depicting Courtney's marriage to someone else.]

Happens before the first part of Affliction.

--

"Andrew?"

The front door opened with a drawn-out squeak and then slammed with excessive force. He was in one of his moods.

"Is dinner on the table?" he barked. His handsome faced was scarred and pockmarked, tough and hardened and chiseled. His face was twisted in hate. His blond hair was gelled into a careful disarray.

Courtney gulped. "Yes, Andrew."

--

_(I don't want to get too close,_

_I don't want to get too close…)_

_--_

The kitchen was still dark, and she didn't hear him advancing toward her until she felt a sharp slap on her cheek, so hard that it wrenched her head sideways and she felt her knees buckle beneath her.

"That's Mr. Lashbrooke to you," he said into her ear, leaning down. His breath was unpleasantly warm.

"Yes, Mr. Lashbrooke," she said in a whisper. Her cheek stung and her neck ached. She didn't remind him that she was his wife.

He sat down and drew out his chair, not bothering to help her off the floor. He helped himself to a piece of steak as she slowly, carefully got up and sat down. She took a timid bite of her own meat.

"How have you been without me?" he deadpanned. She didn't answer. She was thinking of where she had been the last night. Flashes of piercings clouded her vision.

"Courtney!" he yelled out. She snapped back to attention.

"Oh…sorry."

--

_(See this isn't where my head is if you knew me,_

_I'm not like this…)_

--

He leaped up suddenly as he forked his first bite into his mouth, fanning himself while swearing profusely. "Hot!" he shouted unnecessarily. She couldn't help smiling secretly, hiding it with her hair.

He spotted this smile and calmed down, dangerously. He took a step closer to her. The smile slipped off her face.

"You think this is…funny?" he said, his voice measured. "I'll make you think otherwise."

He proceeded to do so and then picked up his briefcase and jacket and slammed the door, leaving his 'wife' on the floor, with a bruise on her eye and a bruise on her heart.

--

_(But I just found someone special,_

_And that's really something special…)_

_--_

"Cheers."

Duncan extended the glass in his hand towards her, and Courtney Lashbrooke reached out and clinked it with his. "Cheers," she repeated. "But to who?"

"To us," he said simply.

"Easy enough." She was satisfied.

"Bottom's up," he said cheerfully, and they both proceeded to finish their drink.

"How's work?" Duncan asked innocently, putting his dish in the sink and running the tap over it.

"Oh, I'm hanging in there. It's kind of hard to sustain a living without…" She didn't finish. She could feel the air of the room grow tense.

"Andrew?" Duncan offered a while later, still looking bothered.

"Well, yeah," she answered back, placing her own glass and dish in the sink. She leaned over his shoulder. He could smell his own soap on her. It was making him crazy.

He could let Andrew go for now. He could let everything go for her. All he wanted, for that moment, was her.

--

_(If you knew me,_

_Nice to meet you, anyway…)_

_--_

"Ah," Courtney managed as Duncan finished their latest session. His breath was cold on her neck and she could feel his hands—somewhere they shouldn't be, no doubt. Their hair intermingled as he touched his forehead to hers and his free hand cupped her neck. His thumb gently brushed the left side of her chest and his other fingers braced under her arm. He leaned back on the pillow as she watched him. She could feel him, his presence. He adjusted himself on top of her so he didn't crush her.

"Good?" he asked. Like always. His sadistic smile was back in place.

"The best. Like always." She sighed. He flattened his hand against her bare stomach and leaned over. When he kissed her, it almost felt right. But then, it never did. Because it wasn't. But she still felt like she had to give it everything she had.

He tasted sharp, like wintermint, and his tongue ran along her teeth in the most satisfying sort of way. Andrew always tasted the same. Toothpaste. Ick. And he was handsome, but he was nothing on Duncan.

"Duncan," she started, wanting to give him a warning. To say slow down, wait up. But there was no time for that.

"Mmhmm?" His voice was muffled. Slowly he was running his tongue up her forearm and past her shoulder, to put his nose and mouth into the crook of her neck. His breath was cold. She burrowed herself under him, feeling safe and unmistakably protected.

--

_(I believe you're very fine,_

_Still I haven't got the time…)_

--

"It's always good with you," he said after a while.

"Thanks." She was still on edge.

He propped his head up on his elbow, brushing his thumb back and forth on the side of her hip. "Are you okay? You look kind of keyed."

"Fine."

He let out a breath and moved his thumb across the small of her back.

He didn't know how much of an effect he had on her. She arched her back toward him.

_--_

_(Cause I just found someone special,_

_And that's really something special…)_

_--_

Suddenly her phone rang. She knew who it was. "Oh, damn," she muttered under her breath.

Duncan sat up curiously, arms around her midriff. She could feel the lower part of him softening against her back. She dug her phone out of her bag and checked the caller ID.

They both read over her shoulder. _Andrew Lashbrooke_.

His arms fell away from her as he stared at the back of her neck silently, tensely.

Courtney opened the phone with shaking fingers. "Hello?"

Duncan watched silently as Courtney spoke into the phone in a false cheery voice.

"Oh, hi Andrew. How's business?" Muted murmurs from the other hand. Duncan resisted the urge to punch the phone from her hand. "I see. Oh, how nice!" Her voice was pitched abnormally high. "No…no, that's not where I work…no, it's _Journeys & Sons_."

--

_(If you knew me,_

_Nice to meet you anyway…)_

_--_

"You're coming home? Tonight?" she demanded loudly. "No, not at all! No, I'm thrilled to have you home! Okay, see you in an hour. Okay. L—l…love you too. I mean. Love you, too. Bye."

She snapped the phone shut and turned to him. He was looking out the window pointedly.

"I have to. I mean—I have to go," she said, rubbing anxiously at her eye. She got up with a false sort of bravado, pulling on her undergarments and then her pants. Duncan silently got up out of bed and put her shirt on for her, buttoning it a little too low for her liking. She didn't fix it.

She slung her black bag over her shoulder, stumbling over her high heels in the front door. She parted her hair right and smoothed it down properly. "Do I look okay?" she inquired, looking frantically for a mirror and settling for a pot, picking it up and examining her reflection critically. She couldn't believe she married him. She used to think he was so amazing. So perfect. Her beautiful future.

. She knew he would be himself once they were alone; who knew what would make him fly into one of his inexplicable rages.

--

_(And the sky opened up,_

_And I saw your other side…)_

_--_

He crossed his arms after pulling on his own pants. "You always look okay. Better than okay." He didn't say it like a compliment, more like an accusation.

She put down the pot to look at him, referring to the situation. "I know, I know! It's not my fault. Please."

He glared out the window. "Please what?"

She didn't know. "Just please." She walked toward him, and he took that many steps back, eyeing her wearily like she had a contagious disease. His hands were up.

"Save it." He had fallen back down onto the bed and was running one hand through his hair, groaning.

Well, at least he couldn't run. She sat down next to him, putting down her bag and checking the watch wrapped around his wrist. She could still feel his watch digging into her shoulder as he braced himself over her. She shook the image from her head.

"Point is, Duncan." She put one hand on her arm. He shook it off angrily, rubbing his face with his hands like he was tired. "I mean, I love you. I said that. And I do."

_--_

_(Dreaming of,_

_my true love…)_

_--_

"Yeah, I've heard it," he said into his hands, muffled.

"I just can't escape this." She sighed and flattened out beside him. "These weeks with you—it's been like something out of a fairy tale. Well. An x-rated fairy tale. But still. A fairy tale."

He managed a laugh at that, though he couldn't seem to help it. "Yeah, it's been like that for me, too."

"But I don't get a choice." She turned serious. "I have to return to him. You don't know how much I'd rather be here. I'd rather be here, believe me."

"I got that." His voice was short.

"But…fairy tales end. Nothing lasts forever. I thought you'd know that best," she continued, plowing ahead.

"You taught me that." His reply was hard enough to make her stand up.

He stood up too and just looked at her. Not angry. Not sad. Just looked.

"Well?" he commented dryly. "Any more fairy tales you want to spin for me? Any other morals of stories you want to share with me?"

She shook her head no and inclined her head upward. He kissed her back, but it seemed forced.

"What was that for?" he asked.

"It was my apology."

He shrugged.

"I guess happy ever after only was ever in fairy tales."

--

_(I don't mean to be so strange,_

_But my life just took a change…)_

_--_

He walked her to her front door, where Andrew was waiting. He looked smooth and clean cut, clean-shaved, in a green flannel jacket and khaki pants, snow boots.

"I'll take her from here," he said softly, taking her from Duncan with the air of false kindness.

"Thanks," he said tensely.

"You're her work buddy, right? Thanks, man." He extended his hand to Duncan, who took it and resisted the urge to squeeze and amputate it.

"It was no problem. I took good care of her while you were gone—at work, I mean. She's…really a mess without you." He bit his tongue so hard it drew blood.

He didn't know Duncan knew the reasons behind him leaving and nodded. "Well, good job."

"It wasn't any trouble." Courtney closed her eyes right against Andrew's jacket. Duncan was saying this for her.

--

_(But I just found someone special,_

_And that's really something special…)_

_--_

Courtney finally spoke up. "Hi," she said very quietly to Andrew.

"Sweetheart," he said, smiling warmly. She knew it was only a matter of time before his real self came out.

He kissed her first on the forehead, then on the cheek, then on the mouth for a long, long time.

Andrew didn't even know where she worked, for crying out loud, Duncan thought.

Duncan couldn't deal with it. He shut the door behind him and walked back to his apartment, trying to erase the memory of the two locked at the mouth from his mind.

--

_(If you knew me,_

_Nice to meet you, anyway…)_

--

"Ohhh." Courtney groaned as she hesitated with her fist halfway to the door—and let it fall back again. She couldn't knock. She couldn't knock.

Why was it so hard? It was easy. But not for her. "Ugh." Courtney was disgusted with herself. She had a backbone. It was vacationing in Mexico right now.

"You can do it, Courtney," she pepped herself. "Yeah. Okay…here I go—"

Her fist was touching the door when it flew open and she found herself not even six inches from Duncan. In the flesh. She took a step backward.

"Courtney?" Duncan looked mildly surprised, and somewhat amused. Well. What a relief. He was amused. The joys of sarcasm. The expression on his face changed and reminded her of Andrew; a mixture of pity, maybe some anger.

--

_(And the sky opened up,_

_And I saw your other side…)_

_--_

He was standing in the doorway with a basket of dirty laundry under his arm. Courtney though she recognized a few of her own personal belongings in the bunch: her shirt, her work pants—was that her bra? Well, of course it was. It didn't belong to him, after all. She hoped not at least. Unless he was sleeping with other women? Her gut wrenched and then tightened uncomfortably at the thought.

But she had no time to dwell on it. She was too busy being humiliated.

"Um. You…left your wallet at my apartment. So I came back to return to you—I mean, return it to you." She felt mortified. Her cheeks felt that way.

His expression wavered at that little error she'd made, but corrected itself and smoothed over. "Thanks." He took it from her. Maybe it was her, but she felt a strange electrical shock when their fingers touched. She didn't get that feeling with her husband. She didn't get it at all.

--

_(Dreaming of,_

_My true love…)_

_--_

Suddenly, and for no explainable reason, she felt a little angry. Was that really all? Did it end just like that? "Is that all you have to say?"

He shrugged. "What do you want from me? You're the one who…" He never finished. She knew what he was going to say, anyhow, didn't she?

He leaned against his doorframe, flipping open the wallet and running through his bills, then his credit card, then his driver's license, like he'd expected her to steal something from him. He didn't say a word.

That was fine. She could play that game. She stayed silent and hooked her thumbs into her pockets, feeling lost, and feeling somewhat combative. She thought he was leaning forward, maybe to kiss her, but he couldn't…

--

_(So before this goes too far,_

_Let me tell you what you are…)_

_--_

Finally, he looked up. "What do you want me to say to you, Courtney?"

She blinked. That was the last thing she expected from him. "What?"

He closed the wallet and held it in his closed fist. "I don't have a clue. Not a clue. It's like your pulling me closer with one hand and pushing me away with the other. I don't know how to react."

It struck her, the trueness of his words. Her mouth opened but nothing came out. "I…what do you mean?"

He moved his shoulders, up then down. "I think you know."

She did. She did exactly. She couldn't say a word.

"I think you have to go," he said smoothly, expressionlessly. "So do I."

He walked past her and retreated down the hall to the laundry room, basket under his arm and his shoes thumping on the carpeted floor.

What she didn't understand is how she could be so in love with two people at once. Andrew was amazing, attractive, but cruel. And Duncan, he was just…needless to say, she was a little preoccupied with him.

--

_(You're amazing, I'm attracted,_

_But I'm terribly distracted…)_

_--_

White doves and yellow flowers.

Gold bells and black lapels.

Pressed pants and blue dresses.

It was the most beautiful wedding he'd imagined. And even in his wildest fantasies, it hadn't looked like this.

A collective sigh as the quarry of doves merrily shuttered around the room, bouncing off the windows. The priest was murmuring.

"…to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until we are parted by death."

She was there, frozen in time, a smile on her face and her eyes glassy. His eyes locked onto her, and he couldn't tear his eyes from her tarnished face.

_--_

_(And I'm trying to be verbal,_

_And I'm back into this circle…)_

_--_

The world would just stop, maybe for a moment, as white flowers were thrown into the air for the bride's benefit. She was walking, slowly down the aisle, towards him, closer, until he could reach out and touch her. She was so beautiful he could feel his eyes burning, and the whole aisle lit up with her. He couldn't look directly at her. He found it difficult. It was like staring into a very bright light.

She paused beside him, looking ahead. He could feel the apology seeping through her skin.

She couldn't look at him. She felt as if she was looking into a very bright light.

--

_(Cause I just found someone special,_

_And that's really something special…)_

_--_

"…to be my husband, to have and to hold, from his day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness, and in health, to love and to cherish, until we are parted by death. This is my solemn vow…"

And then he walked forward, the mystery man, the cratered face and the strong jaw, the crew-cut sandy hair, and didn't wait for her to finish the vows. He swept her off her feet, letting her dress swing around her. The preacher smiled and the audience clapped appreciatively and Duncan froze as she kissed him. He didn't know her. She wished it wasn't this way.

--

_(If you knew me…)_

_--_

He didn't know why he'd come. He never did think he could handle seeing her, in another pair of arms, kissing someone else.

*

END AFFLICTION BRIDGE

______________________________________

_Nice to meet you, nice to meet you_

_Nice to meet you anyway, Nice to meet you anyway,_

_Nice to meet you anyway, nice to meet you anyway_

_Even if you want me to stay here, I'm telling you right now I have to leave…_

_Before I start changing my mind here, I hope you understand what I mean,_

_I hope you understand what I mean, I hope you understand what I mean…_

________________________________________

Basically, Courtney and Duncan are having an illicit affair. Courtney's married.

Well, I haven't edited this because I'm lazy, so if there are mistakes, I wouldn't be so surprised.

The last chapter will be up soon.

So long, goodnight. (Here's a hint.)

-- Hikasne

___________________________________________________________________________

Nice to Meet You (Anyway) © Gavin DeGraw

Duncan & Courtney © TDA, Fresh TV


End file.
